Picking Up the Pieces
by PurpleRanger
Summary: FLANDUS. Sean screwed it up, big time, five years ago. Now he and Norman are back together for the first time since then. Can the reconcile their difference? Rated M for masturbation and oral sex. Also, there's a wee bit of bad language.
1. Brooding, Smoking, Brooding

**Disclaimer:** Do any of you really think I own any of this? No, I don't. And I do not know any of the people mentioned in this; these events are entirely fictional. It would be a ridiculous coincidence if they did this and it also appeared in my imagination. Even J. K. Rowling would scoff at that.

**Warnings: **Bad language (gasp!), angst, excessive sighing

**A.N.: **Here it is: my first multi-chapter fic. This is my baby. I've read a lot of Flandus where Norman is the one who screwed everything up with the whole having-a-kid thing. That's all well and good, but I thought, what if Sean was the one who screwed it up? And this, ladies and gentlemen, is what brings you this fic, written mostly during math class (it does not contain any functions, I swear).

~PurpleRanger

**Picking Up the Pieces**

**Chapter One: Brooding, Smoking, Brooding**

Norman Reedus pulls a cigarette from his pack slowly, ignoring the glare he can feel from behind him. He lights it and puts it to his lips, sighing as he breathes in. He can still feel that glare. "I _am_ an adult, Helena," he says tiredly. "It is well within my rights to smoke."

His ex-girlfriend walks around to face him. "Yes, but you came for these few days so Mingus could spend some time with both of his parents before you leave for filming. It would be much more fun if you didn't mope." Helena keeps her tone light. Norman is her best friend, and she knows that he's been depressed for five years now. But this is time for Mingus, and he shouldn't have to see his father like this.

"Okay." Norman doesn't want to deal with a conflict. He stubs out his cigarette and tosses it in the trash can. He puts on his best smile, the one he uses for the press and in movies. It's very convincing. Helena knows it's fake now, but if she hadn't watched him put it on… Norman knows that Sean is the only person who could ever read him.

Sean. Why does everything come back to him? Norman sighs quietly. He knows why. It's because five years of pain haven't erased the two years of being happily in love. It's because he can't hate Sean, no matter how much he tries. But right now it's because he is going to see Sean in three days, he's going to have to act brotherly and close with him. He has to pretend he and Sean are still friends, with Norman making ridiculous faces as Sean puts on a silly voice.

"Stop that," says Helena, jerking Norman out of his thoughts. He opens his mouth to ask what she means, but realizes he's biting on his nails. Ah, that's what she was talking about. He knows she doesn't want Mingus to see him like this, but Mingus has been seeing him like this for the past five years during the weeks he stays with Norman. Since Mingus stopped spending time with Dad and Sean, and started spending time with just Dad. Mingus was only five, but he saw the change. Helena doesn't know that Mingus understand his father is sad, but Norman does. Mingus doesn't get _why_ his dad is so sad, though, because he never understood why Sean slept over at his dad's, never quite figured out why his dad and Sean hugged so much.

Norman sighed again. He should have taught his son about of types of family, other types of love. God, he has so many regrets now. He shouldn't have fought with Sean; he shouldn't have agreed to make the second _Boondock Saints_ movie. Why is he putting himself next to Sean? Sean, the man who broke his heart. He hasn't spoken to him since they broke up. He hadn't answered the phone when Sean called, hadn't responded to the messages and emails. After two months, Sean had given up. But Norman had saved every single apologetic email and phone message. He looked up pictures of Sean. He put himself in pain on purpose.

Frankly, Norman is frightened. He really isn't sure he can deal with seeing Sean. Christ, seeing a restaurant they went to once brings back enough memories to make him want to cry; what will seeing the damn man himself do? Norman isn't sure he's strong enough to be close to Sean, much less act like his brother and best friend, both on camera and off. He's an actor, but this is person. Norman sighs one last time before getting up to find Mingus. It's time to play the happy, fun father, not that Mingus will fall for it.

*

Norman stumbles into the shower. Four in the morning is far too early to be up, in his opinion, but he has a plane to catch. The hot water starts to wake him up. In all honesty, he doesn't want to catch his fucking plane. It's because this plane goes to the set, and that's where Sean is. He knows he shouldn't be worried. He wasn't the one who screwed everything up. He wasn't the one who cheated after a fight. He wasn't the one who walked out. On the other hand, he is the one still in love. Norman doesn't believe in self-deception. Sean stopped calling and emailing after a couple months. It's been five years, for fuck's sake. Norman's still holding on, but he knows there's no reason Sean would be.

Norman washes his hair slowly. He knows he's just delaying the inevitable, but any minute spent in the shower is a minute not in transportation toward Sean. He feels awful whenever he thinks of it. He said goodbye to Mingus last night, and Mingus told him to get happy while he's filming. Christ, he's so bad his ten-year-old worries about his mental health. He needs to work on keeping the smiling façade up around Mingus.

There's only so much time he can waste washing, so Norman has to drag himself out. Looking in the mirror, he sees the dark circles under his eyes. He looks just as stressed and unhappy as he is. Damn. Even if he is miserable, he doesn't want Sean to know. Sean would feel guilty and sad and shitty if he knew Norman is still sad. As much as Sean hurt him, Norman still loves him, and will use all his acting talent to keep Sean from feeling guilty.

Norman dries himself off and starts getting dressed. He pulls on his ratty old jeans, sighing sadly. These jeans are old enough to be filled with memories. Why is he wearing these the day he's going to see Sean for the first time in five years? Norman knows it's a bad idea, but he can't bring himself to change. Maybe Sean will also remember tearing those jeans off the first night they slept together. Norman isn't sure if he wants that to happen. If it does, he isn't sure if he wants Sean to feel guilty of if he wants him to fall in love all over again. As much as Norman wants the latter, he's scared of getting hurt. Mostly, though, he doesn't want to get his hopes up. Sean's moved on, he's sure. He's the one who hasn't. The one who can't.

Norman finishes dressing and runs a comb through his hair. He glances at his watch and sees he's running late. Sean or no, this is his job and he really shouldn't miss his plane. He throws his towel on the rack haphazardly and sits on the bed to put on his shoes. He grabs his backpack and jacket, now glad that he's mailed most of his stuff ahead instead of bringing it on the plane. He walks outside to see Helena waiting in her car. He slides into the passenger seat.

"Thanks for giving me a ride to the airport, Helena," Norman says quietly. "I like you more that taxi drivers."

"No problem," Helena replies as she maneuvers the car to the open road. "There isn't that much traffic this early on a Saturday, anyway. Which is good," she adds, glancing at Norman, "because you were damn near late."

"Sorry," Norman apologizes, looking down at his hands. "I lingered in the shower." He switches his gaze to look out the window, anywhere but Helena. Lingering in the shower is perfectly innocent, but he is sure Helena knows he was brooding.

"You didn't have to do this movie, Norman. _The Boondock Saints_ doesn't need a sequel. Why do you insist on making yourself miserable?" She looks closely at Norman as they wait at a stoplight.

"I need to see him again, Helena," Norman says, his voice barely above a whisper and thick with the treat of tears. "Even if I can't be with him again, I need to know he's okay and happy. That he's moved on. I love him." His voice drops even lower. "I need one of us to be happy."

"You didn't answer his calls or return his emails," Helena says, a little more sharply than she'd intended. "Christ, if you wanted to know, he would've gladly talked to you."

Norman flinches at Helena's tone, and realizes, with twenty-twenty hindsight, that he shouldn't have told her that. "Well, the wounds were too fresh then. I couldn't face him after two months, but it's been five year. I think I can now." He shuts his mouth and looks down guiltily when he realizes he's snapping at her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten angry. You have a point."

Helena looks guilty as well. "It's fine Norman. I shouldn't have baited you. You had your reasons not to talk to Sean. I was being a bitch."

"And I was an asshole in return," Norman tells her. "No wonder we had such a short run as a couple," he adds, forcing a smile.

Helena forces a laugh in return. The rest of the ride passes in fake smiles and jokes, neither one willing to bring Sean up again. They pull in to the drop-off lane, coming to a stop near a door.

"Bye, Norman," Helena says. "Try to have fun, okay?"

"Will do," Norman says, giving her a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks for the ride, Helena. Bye." He grabs his backpack and gets out, shutting the door quietly and walking in to the airport.

Norman groans inwardly when he sees the line for security. His slight lateness now seems much worse, because this isn't going anywhere soon. He pulls out a book and starts reading. Well, he starts staring at the pages and thinking about Sean. He's seen some pictures of him on the internet – the just happen to come up when he gets on, of course – and even though Sean's older, he's still attractive. And when he was skimming the script last night, Norman has seen a shower scene written in there. Wonderful. Norman isn't sure if he'll be able to prevent himself, if Sean's naked in front of him, from going over to the man and kissing and fucking him senseless. It is very inconvenient that he is still stuck on Sean.

Norman finally gets to the front of the line, and he goes through the motions. It's times like this when he wishes he were Johnny Depp or Brad Pitt, and could get special treatment and breeze through lines. He thinks it's sad that society does that for famous people, and even sadder that it never happens to him. He's happy as a B-list guy, without all the Hollywood drama, but he really hates lines.

He finds his gate – of course, it just _had_ to be at the end of the terminal. C43? Who even thinks of this shit? Due to his slight lateness and the horrible Line of Doom, the flight is already boarding all passengers. He hands his boarding pass to the lady (stewardess? Flight attendant? Air hostess? He has no idea since they keep changing the name) and gets on the plane. As he sits down, he realizes how worn out he is. He falls asleep before the plane takes off, still worrying about seeing Sean.

**A.N.:** Did you like it? No? No matter your opinion, you should write a review so that:

A) I can feel special,

B) I can improve my writing, and

C) I can get some reader ideas for the rest of it. I have a basic plan already, but am open to suggestions if anyone has any.


	2. The Wonders of Alcohol and Loneliness

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these men. I can't find them on eBay. I make no money from this, but how awesome would life be if I made money from writing fic? Really awesome.

**NOTE ON RATING CHANGE: **Once Sean got in the shower, he really wanted to engage in some self-love. I told him not too, but he didn't pay attention and decided to masturbate anyway. So the rating is now M people. M for Masturbating Men (well, man). Side note to DrainBamage: Looky! I wrote some sex (well, self-sex. Closer than ever before)!

**AN: **I'm sorry it's been so long since my last post. I've got severe psoriasis and the pain makes it hard to concentrate. But Sean needs his angst time just as much as Norman. So here we go.

Thank you to my dear devoted readers who have commented. I am truly, truly sorry that I haven't replied to all y'all. I just want you to know that your encouragement makes me want to write more and more because that way you'll be happier and happier (or more and more angst-ridden, if you're reading this).

~PurpleRanger

**Chapter Two: The Wonders of Alcohol and Loneliness**

Sean rolls over in bed and looks at the clock. Great. 3:00. Just fucking peachy. He hasn't slept at all yet and doubts he will before he has to get to set. He had been relieved when he arrived yesterday and found out he was a day ahead of Norman, but today Norman is going to arrive and Sean is going to be miserable. Sean finds himself wishing he hadn't kept in contact with Helena. If he hadn't, he could pretend Norman is happy and well-adjusted. But he isn't and Sean knows it's his fault. God, he wishes he could take back everything he did, wishes he could go back five years to when he and Norman were happy together. More immediately, he wishes he could take back how much Jack Daniel's he drank in his hotel room earlier this evening. Not only will Troy kill him if he's badly hung over – or worse yet, still drunk – but he's currently a weepy, lonely drunk. At least no one can see him like this.

Sean barely notices when he's drunk now. Christ, he's been drinking a lot since he and Norman split. He knows it's bad and he should stop, but every time he tries he just dwells on how empty his life is. Well, he does that when he's drunk too, but the pain is duller once enough alcohol hits his system. Yes, Sean Patrick Flanery is a minor alcoholic, and no, you don't need to tell hi. He glances at the bottle of whiskey next to the clock and decides that one more sip can't make anything worse than it already is. So he takes a few gulps and turns on the television. He can at least be an occupied drunk.

Everything on at 3:00 in the morning is either porn or trash. Sean settles on the latter. Any thoughts of sex when Norman is around are just a bad idea. The station he settles on is great for five minutes, but then it starts taking about celebrity couples. Could he and Norman have made it to the top celeb couples if he hadn't been an asshole? Would they be the gay, drama-free version of Brangelina if Sean had dealt with his anger without acting like a vengeful child? Shit, even after he had treated Norman like shit Norman had been willing to try to go on. But Sean hadn't been mature enough to deal with his anger and guilt, so he'd left what reminded him of what he'd done. He'd left the only man – the only person – he's ever loved.

He switches the channel when he realizes he's tearing up. He's god damn pathetic.

Aah, this is better. This movie has explosions. Sean tries to make himself zone out into the movie, but it doesn't work. He remembers how Norman always liked to cuddle up and watch ridiculous action movies. He had never thought of big explosions as romantic until Norman had spooned with him on the couch while watching _Die Hard_.

Tearing up again. Maybe this action movie isn't the best plan.

Sean turns off the television. It's 3:45 and he has made the executive decision of "fuck sleep" and now needs something to do. He casts his eyes around the hotel room until the come to rest on the open bathroom door. He can take a shower. Showering is a great time waster, because he can spend a really long time under the hot water. Sean heaves himself out of bed, the ground moving around a little due to all the whiskey from earlier. He peels off his boxers and walks to the bathroom. He turns on the shower to almost full heat. He stands there aimlessly for the minute it takes for the water to heat up.

Finally the water heats up, and Sean steps into the steaming shower. This was definitely a good plan. Showers always clear his head a bit when he's slightly drunk. He turns his face to the spray and stands for a minute or so. As much of an exercise and health freak as he is (well, except for the alcohol), he's always liked taking showers. And so did Norman. Whenever neither of them was rushed, they would shower together in the mornings.

Okay, he's beyond pathetic. Showering is making him mope and be depressed. This is getting out of hand. He needs a distraction before he goes on a crying jag like some pregnant woman.

Well, people usually shower in order to wash, so Sean picks up the bar of soap and decides to clean himself until he sparkles. He won't think of Norman at all. Well, except for just then. He rubs the bar in between his hands to get it nice and sudsy, and then starts rubbing it over himself. He washes his legs, then his arms, then his chest, and then… hey! He has thought of something to do!

Masturbation, Sean realizes, can solve any problem.

So he thinks about the only thing he thinks about to get off to: Norman Mark Reedus.* Seriously. Having sex with a girl? Closes his eyes and imagines how Norman's face looks as he rails him. Getting fucked by another guy? Closes his eyes and tries to hear Norman's dirty talk in his ears. Giving a blow job? Closes his eyes and pretends it's Norman's cock pushing into his mouth and Norman's voice panting and moaning at him. Yep, he's pretty damn obsessive.

So Sean slides a hand down his torso to grasp at his cock, already getting hard from thinking about Norman. A few short tugs and it's at full hardness, ready for Sean to pull away as his fantasizes.

He can't pretend that his hand is Norman's mouth or his hole, but he can imagine that Norman is watching him. Sean shuts his eyes and pictures Norman peeking around the doorway of the bathroom, trying not to let Sean see him. But Sean sees the imaginary Norman and decides to put on a bit of a show. He always has been a bit of an exhibitionist.

Sean moans loudly as he strokes himself slowly. In his mind's eye, Norman's breathing quickens as he reaches to undo his jeans. Sean speeds his hand up determinedly, wanting to give this fantasy Norman a damn good performance. A few pulls later, Sean's sexual frustration spurts out and coats the shower wall.

He feels pathetic again as he cleans himself and the wall off. Five years later, he still beats off to Norman. On the plus side, looking at his waterproof watch, he realizes that he's wasted a good thirty minutes cleaning up and wanking. Mission accomplished. Look at Sean: he sets goals and he meets them! He is so fucking great at life!

He bangs his head against the wall a few times for good measure before he turns the water off. Maybe he'll kill all the pathetic brain cells.

Or maybe he won't. That might take a brain-ectomy. He really is pretty damn pathetic. He honestly cannot emphasis that enough to himself. But isn't going to go whine about this to some dipshit psychologist. Real men don't talk about their feelings. Why? Because it's nobody's business!**

Without bothering to get dressed, Sean flops back down on his bed to check the television again. Aha, they are now playing _Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid_. He's from Texas, damn it! He's got a soft spot for Westerns. So he lies back to engross himself in the movie.

*

When the movie finishes, Sean watches the Weather Channel for a while, concentrating very hard on the rainfall expected in Kentucky. It is obviously very important how much rain is in Kentucky; the Weather Channel would _never_ just talk about random shit. He flips through channels until he finds a "human interest" news story that isn't really news and will never affect anyone who isn't in said news story. He watches for an hour before getting dressed. It is time to go to set.

Sean says a silent prayer that God will smite him before he gets to set. It doesn't work, as He has not smote Sean by the time Sean pulls in to the lot and parks his car. His only hope now is that God will smite him before he sees the one man he can't bear to see if he can't have.

*Yes, his middle name is Mark, according to IMDB. Look at all the research that goes into the creation of my fic!

**I will be very proud of the first person to get that reference. The battle is on, my friends!

**AN: **This was my first time writing any sort of sex scene, however small. Please be nice. Pretty please leave reviews. Reviews make the world go round. Well, them and gravity. I love you all very much, and be prepared for angst-filled, awkward conversations through a very confused Troy Duffy.


	3. Awkward Turtle Doesn't Even Come Close

**Disclaimer:** Yep, I totally own two human beings. Oh, wait, I'm in America. Let's just look at the Amendments, shall we? No, I don't own them. I also don't know them, _really_ doubt this is true, and mean no harm. And I make no money by it. Sadly.

**Warnings:** Angst, awkwardness, and all kinds of other depressing things. Ooh, and these boys – and the narrator (heh heh, that's me) – have quite the potty-mouths.

**A.N.: **Sorry for the lack of updates in forever. I'm not even going to try to make excuses because, really, it was my own damn fault. I am truly sorry. I mean it. I was looking at some of the photos Norman has taken on his website (I can claim it's research to my friends who read my fic) when I realized, _holy crap, I am a terrible human being who hasn't updated. _This is dedicated to the wonderful RedBrick, who proofread chapter two and saves my life with her editing skills.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed thus far. Your reviews are very encouraging. Also, to any other Flandus authors reading this (I've seen more and more popping up!) I'm glad we are keeping the fandom alive. Keep up the amazing work, all of you!

~PurpleRanger

**Chapter Three: Awkward Turtle Doesn't Even Come Close**

Norman throws his backpack in the back of the cab and slides in after it. He mumbles the name of the hotel to the driver, then sits back to stare out the window as the cab pulls away from the airport. _Oh Canada, you look the exact same as America. In fact, you are pretty boring._ He leans closer so he can watch his breath fog up the glass. It is October in Toronto and that means cold. Maybe that's for the best, though. Cold means Sean will be wearing a shirt at most – if not all – times. Which will help Norman not ogle him. And maybe – really unlikely, here, but, hey, keep the possibilities open – it will help Norman get over him. Maybe obscuring the exquisite body beneath the clothes will make Norman see some yet-unknown bad things about Sean's personality. Because, in all honesty, even though Sean hurt him horribly, Norman still sees him as perfect in every way. It's kind of a problem.

Norman mentally shakes himself out of his brooding and sees that they have arrived at the hotel. He shoves some money into the driver's hand, grabs his backpack, and gets out, not bothering to wait for change. His photos sell online for $500 each.* He can spare a couple of dollars to be alone as soon as possible. He walks into the hotel and asks for his key at the front desk, like Troy instructed him to. It was nice of Troy to check him in and all, but the staff didn't even ask for identification. Would they just let anyone take the room key? He knows he's B-list and all, but even B-listers can have random people creeping on them and wanting to get into their rooms. He would just like some security measures.

It's not until he's in the elevator that he realizes they probably have seen either a movie with him or a picture from Troy. And he does have that distinctive little mole by his mouth, so it's not like anyone random who looks vaguely like him can waltz in and get his room. He feels better about the hotel security situation. But not better about Sean. Because he's supposed to get settled and then call Troy, who will come pick him up – or send someone else to – and take him to talk to him and Sean about the script and different scenes. Oh, God. This is going to be difficult. Maybe he should fall down in the shower and knock himself out. No, that would be unprofessional, and unfair to Troy, who didn't put him in this predicament. Not to mention it might lead to him knowing the truth and Norman doesn't think he can deal with that. Troy is his friend and all, but not close enough for this. Oh no. This is a little too private.

Norman lets himself into the room and is relieved to see that no random, slight-look-alike creeper is in there. He is happy to discover that the box of stuff he mailed ahead is, because he only packed a toothbrush, books, and an extra pair of boxers in his backpack. He brushes his teeth in the bathroom, puts his clothes in the drawers, and pulls out his cell to call Troy. Troy picks up after two rings.

"Hey, are you fucking ready yet?" Troy's voice sounds tinny over the phone.

"Yeah, can you come pick me up? What is the plan, anyway?"

"I'll send some peon to pick you up. You, Sean, and I are going to hash out the scenes we're doing in the next couple days, you two are going to meet Cliff, who plays Romeo, and then I'm spotting you and Sean for a bonding dinner. I want you two to get back to being the twins, perfectly in sync and whatnot."

"Okay, thanks man. See you in a few. I'll be waiting for the ride in the lobby." Norman hangs up the phone and stares at it. He bangs his head against the wall once for good measure. Bonding dinner with Sean. Because regular time spent with him won't be awkward and painful enough.

Norman steps into the room apprehensively, knocking on the doorframe to announce his presence. Sitting around a small table covered in papers are Troy, Sean, and that new guy – what's his name again? Some sort of land formation… Mountain? Eddy? Cliff! That's it. Short for Clifton, if he remembers correctly. Troy gets up and bounds over to him. "Norm!" he yells happily. He embraces Norman, who half-heartedly returns the hug.

"Hey, Troy. Good to see you, man." Norman replies, looking surreptitiously – he hopes – over his director's shoulder at Sean. Sean is hovering somewhere in between standing and sitting, clearly unsure whether or not hugging Norman is a good idea or not. He stands all the way up after a few moments – he has to keep up appearance in front of the oblivious Troy, and he really does want to hug Norm again. Even if it ends up being the last time, he wants to feel the strong, warm body against him. Even a platonic way sounds amazing at this point.

Troy releases Norman and stands aside to let Sean at Norman, who, he remembers, is pretty much his best friend. The two were so close that he knows these ten years can't have broken the bond. He knows that they kept in close contact after the first movie was finished, so this must be a great reunion for them. They aren't as excited as he has expected, but they are both tired.

Norman stiffens ever so slightly as Sean wraps his arms around him. It reminds him of something he's missed so much. Okay, taking the part in the sequel was a really bad plan. He realizes that now but twenty-twenty hindsight doesn't help at all. He remembers that Troy is watching and expects the old friendship they had, so he wraps his arms tightly around Sean and tries to fake an excited voice. "Hey, Sean. It's been forever, man. How are you?" Christ, it sounds fake even to him.

"Pretty good," Sean lies cheerily, pasting on a brilliant smile. He can hear that Norman's faking it too. Well, at least they're on even footing. "How about you?"

"Can't complain," Norman says. Nothing could be farther from the truth. He's torn up inside, but Sean sounds happy. Well, it sounded a little fake to Norman, but that must be his imagination trying to console him. _Sean doesn't like you anymore, remember?_ he berates himself. _He's had five years to get over you_.

Sean lets go of Norman and sits down. That was painful as fuck. He kind of wants to cry, but Troy and Cliff are here. Also, he's a Texas man; he isn't supposed to cry, damn it. He watches as Norman takes a seat across from him. This session can't end soon enough.

"So turn right at the end of the street, and it's on your right, next to a little bakery. I've got a table reserved to run on a tab for me. So keep it cheap, fuckers." Troy bade Sean and Norman goodbye and sent them on their way to the restaurant.

"You know, if he doesn't want to spend money, why spot us? He could just make us do it," Sean says after a moment, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had fallen.

"It's nice that he wants to, though," Norman mumbles back. He starts walking in the direction Troy indicated. "Come on, let's go. I'm fucking hungry." He subconsciously brings his left hand up to his mouth and starts chewing on his thumbnail.

Sean falls into step next to him. "Stop," he says, grabbing Norman's hand and pulling it down before letting go quickly. "I know it's awkward as hell, but let's try to relax and have a good time?" He knows he's asking the impossible, but he can't help it. He hates seeing Norman upset.

Norman knows he should just agree and avoid the conflict, be he can't stop what comes out of his mouth. "Sure, that will be really easy. Let me just forget you cheated on me and broke my fucking heart and we'll go back to being best friends. Great plan, Sean."

*Yes. 500 fucking dollars. That's what his website said. I told you all that creeping was research.

**A.N.:** This is the closest I have ever come to a cliff-hanger. Do you like it? I shall try to update it soon, my darlings, but these next two weeks are AP exams. We'll see. Writing may end up being my de-stresser…. I love you all very much. Please review. I am vain and thus like compliments.


	4. Fights, Accusations, Apologies

**Disclaimer:** I know none of the people in this, I mean no harm by this, I make no money from this, and I really, _really_ wish this had happened but it didn't. Well, as far as I know.

**Warnings:** Angst, fighting, pretending not to fight so as not to cause a scene… nothing you faithful readers can't handle. Seriously, y'all are becoming angst pros. I should make you guys certificates.

**A.N.:** I kind of just started writing this and it was flowing… I hope it doesn't seem out of character or anything, but I tried to go with the emotions they would feel at that moment. I know they don't reflect their ultimate feelings for each other the whole time, but they reflect the heat of the moment feelings. I hope y'all will understand.

I'm pretty sure it's sad that this counts as my fastest update. I need to work on that. But hey, here it is! Not that I'm procrastinating studying! Oh no! Not me! Anyway, we're nearing the end. This isn't the last chapter but it's getting closer. I'm sure you guys are waiting on tenterhooks to see who ends up together (hint: it isn't Clifton and Troy).

~PurpleRanger

**Chapter Four: Fights, Accusations, Apologies… the whole kit and caboodle.**

Sean grabs Norman's arm as Norman attempts to flee in to the crowded – and thus safe – restaurant. "What the fuck was that for?" he asks, bewildered at Norman's outburst. Yeah, he knows he hurt Norm, and badly, but he wasn't prepared for these open hostilities. "What happened to playing nice?"

"Did you miss the part about breaking my heart, Sean? It hurts just to be around you. How the hell am I supposed to play nice?" Norman snaps. It takes all the control he's developed from years of acting to keep himself from tearing up. "But if you want to just sit down, eat dinner, and pretend we never loved each other, fine. Let's fucking eat." Before Sean can stop him, Norman wrenches his arm from the other man's grasp and stalks into the restaurant.

Sean can only follow him. He doesn't want to make a scene in public. That would be bad for them, for the movie, for Mingus… for everyone. He catches up to Norman at the hostess' little podium-thing. Sean distracts himself by wondering what the hell those things are called. They stand in awkward, tense silence for a few minutes until a young woman approaches the… podium. Stand. Desk. Whatever.

"Do you have a reservation?" she asks sweetly.

"Yeah," Sean replies. "I think it's under Flanery." He knows Troy made it under one of their names, and he probably went with Sean's. It's more common, less "Oh, I've heard that name. Are you Norman Reedus?" and thus less conspicuous.

"Ah, yes, with the tab already set to be paid by a third party. Wonderful! Come right this way, sirs." The hostess leads them to their table, which is – that God for small miracles – in the back, separated from most of the other tables by some sort of potted plant. It is an ugly potted plant, Sean can't help but notice.

They sit down silently. The hostess asks for drink orders. Norman shows no sign of talking, so Sean orders them each a Guinness. Might as well start getting back into the role, right? Norman's glare intensifies as the hostess walks off, leaving them to contemplate their menus.

"I can order my own drink." Norman knows he's acting childish, and wishes he could stop, but the rush of power is so addicting. Sean held so much power over Norman when he broke his heart, and now Norman has the power to upset his ex. He feels like a junkie searching for a vein: if he can push just the right buttons, he will have the satisfaction of hurting Sean. He feels sick with himself for acting like this. _Okay, now you can kiss that dream of winning him back goodbye, dipshit,_ he berates himself. _But hey, whatever. It's a small price to pay for winning the Douchebag of the Year award, right?_

Sean glares right back. "Listen, Norman," he growls through his teeth. "I know I hurt you and I am so sorry. I completely understand if you hate me, which you seem to. But can we just act like civilized people? I ordered your drink because you looked too upset to talk. I never want to hurt you again. Christ," his tone softens, "I would do anything to take back hurting you before. I'm really sorry."

Norman feels his eyes start to water. So much for not crying. "I tried to hate you," he whispers brokenly. "I tried so hard after you left. But I can't. I still love you, Sean. But what did I do wrong? Why wasn't I good enough? Maybe if I know that, I can get over you." He feels pathetic. He's pretty sure that little speech decreased his manliness by about 30 points on the 100 scale. Norman isn't sexist, but he's pretty sure he sounds like a girl.

Sean spent the last few years feeling absolutely terrible for what he did to Norman, but now he feels like complete, utter shit. He's pretty sure he's the worst person in the world. "Nothing," he replies quietly. "You were perfect." He braces himself for the question he knows will follow, the one he can't answer.

"Then why, Sean? If I was perfect, why did you cheat?" This is the question Norman needs to know the answer to. The one he's also a little scared to know the answer to. If there's a reason, it means that Sean doesn't love him anymore. That Sean won't love him anymore. That the one thing he's been wishing for in the back of his mind, the wish he wouldn't even admit to himself, is impossible. He honestly has no idea what he'll do if Sean gives a reason for cheating on him. But then again, if Sean doesn't have a reason, he'll feel betrayed. _Great,_ his brain yells at him. _A catch-22! Why can't you be satisfied?_

"I…" Sean's searching for words to express something he doesn't understand. "I don't know."

"Really? Because cheating seems to be a rash action for a reason you can't figure out." Norman lashes out in anger, anything to cover the fact he is sobbing on the inside. "If you didn't have a reason, maybe you should have, oh, I don't know, not done it."

"I am sorry." Sean enunciates every word. "I know you want an explanation, but I can't give you one, Normy. It was stupid and petty, but I was angry. I'm sorry."

"Okay, we're back to 'I did it because we fought' and you may remember that I always hated that excuse." Norman tries not to show a response to his old nickname, but it sends another stab of pain through his heart. He misses hearing Sean whisper endearments to him all through the night.

"Do you want me to lie? Because if that's the case, I'll give you another excuse. How many times do you want me to apologize, Norm? Because we're just banging our heads against the wall, here."

Norm opens his mouth to retort, but at that exact moment a waiter appears. _Great timing, fuck-face._

"Have you two made up your minds, or would you like some more time?" the young man asks, oblivious to the argument he's interrupting. Sean figures he'll pick something at random to get rid of this guy, and prays Norman will do the same.

"I'll have the fettuccini alfredo," Sean tells the waiter after a cursory glance at the front page of the menu. "What about you, man?" he asks Norman, hoping to speed him up.

Norman glances down and orders the first thing he sees. "I guess I'll have the tomato-basil soup," he says quickly, and hands his menu to the waiter. He thanks all the higher beings he can think of the his acting training allows him to cover the tears in his voice.

The waiter leaves, and Sean and Norman turn back to each other. Norman speaks first, answering the question Sean asked before the waiter arrived. "I don't know, Sean. I guess I'll know how much apologizing is enough when that point comes. But let's try to be practical for a few seconds. How are we planning to survive this film? Everyone expects us to be best friends."

"Is it so hard to act like it?" Sean asks Norman quietly. "We are actors, after all. I will spend all my free time apologizing to you, if you want, Norman. I just want you to be happy. I miss you so much… shit, I _love_ you so much. But I understand if you're still pissed off at me. If you don't want me. Hell, I don't think I'd want me." He stared down at his hands. He hadn't meant to say that much.

"I'm still angry," Norman concedes, reaching across the table to grab Sean's chin and force him to look at him, "but I miss you too. I've been miserable for five years, Sean. You hurt me badly, but I still love you. God only knows why, but I still want you." He holds up the index finger of his free hand as Sean opens his mouth happily. "But I will not – no, scratch that, I _cannot_ – try again unless you give me a reason. I'm sorry to give an ultimatum, but I need to know." He puts down his index finger, waiting for the response.

A few moments of silence pass before they are interrupted by the arrival of their meals. "Here you go," the waiter says cheerfully, handing each their plate. "Since your bill is taken care of, you can just leave when you finish. Be sure to flag me down if you need anything more."

"Can we just eat and talk?" Sean asks Norman hopefully. "I'll give you an answer later, I just… I want to spend some time just talking. I miss that."

"Sure," Norman replies. It bothers him that Sean can't just give him an answer, but he's willing to just talk. He misses their easy conversations just as much as Sean does. What do you want to talk about?"

"Shit, anything. I haven't heard from you in forever. How has life been going? How's Mingus doing?" Sean's heard a lot from his conversations with Helena, but he wants to hear Norman say it, wants to know how Norman feels about it.

The two men talk amiably, but eat quickly. Within ten minutes, their plates are clean.

"We've eaten and talked," Norman says, looking piercingly into Sean's eyes. "Can I have an answer, or do you want to stall more?"

"I know this sounds like stalling, but can we go back to the hotel?" Sean requests. "I don't want to have this conversation in public. Troy would kill us if this got out."

Norman rolls his eyes exasperatedly. He really just wants a straight answer now, but he can't argue with Sean's logic. "Sure, let's grab a cab."

They flag a taxi outside the restaurant and direct the driver to the hotel. Norman looks sneakily at Sean for the whole ride. Sean is staring out the window, probably still trying to come up with his excuse for Norman. Norman wants to reach out and stroke Sean's cheek, go back to how it was before, but he resists. He gave an ultimatum and he's sticking to it. He needs to know.

The cab pulls in to the hotel lot after a seven minute drive. Sean pays the tab – "You've got next one, Norm." – and they go inside. The lobby is deserted, and they cross to the elevators to take one up. Finally, they arrive in Norman's room. Norman sits on the bed while Sean paces back and forth, from window to door.

"Well, Sean? Do you have an answer?"

**A.N.:** Haha, I'm so cruel! I'm becoming quite the queen on cliffhangers. So… do you want more? Do you simply want to express your joy over this quick update? Do you love me? If you answered yes or no to any of these, you should review! I love you all, the next chapter will be the… last! Well, that's the plan so far…


	5. If at first you don't succeed

**Disclaimer:** Let's be real. I wasn't hanging around BDSII set (sadly) so how would I know if this had happened? I wouldn't. So, no, this didn't happen. No, I know neither Sean nor Norman (again, much to my regret). This is all a product of my twisted little imagination.

**Warnings: **Swearing, angst, some major shedding of man-tears, and **oral sex**… nothing you haven't seen before, but if you don't like it, don't read it.

**A.N.: **This is it. The end. My first chaptered fic… he grew up so fast! One day I was changing his diapers, now he's leaving for college! Where does time go? Anyway, I hope you guys like the ending. I shall probably start a new FLANDUS fic (another multi-chapter!) soon… if you have any plot lines you'd like to see, leave a review and I'll see what I can do. Actually, leave a review no matter what because they make me happy.

Hey looky: I wrote oral sex! This is a first! I think I need to throw myself a party!

Also, to everyone who has reviewed and not gotten a reply: I am really sorry. I have all the notification e-mails in my inbox, and I shall start replying soon as I won't be working to update this…

Love,

PurpleRanger

**Chapter Five: If at first you don't succeed…**

Sean stops pacing and looks at Norman. "I was so angry. I felt like you were trying to hurt me. Christ, I don't even remember what we were fighting about anymore. But I felt this childish need for revenge. I know that doesn't make it okay," he added quickly as Norman's glare intensified. "But, frankly, nothing makes cheating okay. And I've got a question for you, Norm: if you wanted me back so much, why didn't you take me? I was willing to try again. I groveled. I promised to never do anything to hurt you ever again. I cried, I begged, I even offered to go to counseling. You were the one who said no."

Norman stares at the floor. He doesn't answer right away, instead taking a few moments to sort through his thoughts, to think of the words he needed to express his feelings. "It was too soon, Sean. You came groveling two days after the whole thing… I was still too hurt, too angry, to say yes. I wanted to hurt you right back. I guess I thought," he continued, looking intently at his hands so as to avoid Sean's gaze, "that you would come groveling later. That I would get another opportunity to try again once I'd calmed down. Fucking stupid, yeah?" Norman's voice cracks on the last word as the tears he's been holding in finally begin to fall. He lets them fall freely, blurring his vision. Well, at least he won't have to see Sean's expression now.

The bed dips down beside Norman and a strong arm wraps around his shuddering shoulders. He turns and buries his face in Sean's chest, soaking his shirt in tears. "Shh, Normy, it's okay. Look, here's another opportunity, right now. I can grovel again, if you want." He winces as Norman's tears turn to sobs at his joke attempt. _Way to go, Flanery._

Norman pushes his face harder against Sean's chest, as if he's trying to burrow in there and hide for eternity, which, now that he thinks about it, sounds pretty nice. He feels kind of bad for not answering Sean right away, but he can't talk through the tears.

They sit there for a few minutes, Sean rubbing Norman's back and whispering soothing words as Norman sobs into his chest. Finally, Norman raises his head, and bloodshot eyes meet blue. "I think I'm okay without the groveling; I remember the gist of it from last time. I do want to, though… you know, try again. It's not going to go right back to how it was before, but we can just start over. Clean slate and all." He smiles nervously, worried Sean won't want to start over, will want everything to be the same as before… and Norman isn't ready for that.

For all his moping over what he lost, Norman isn't ready to pick back up with Sean where they left off. He doesn't trust Sean enough for that, not yet. Sean can rebuild that trust, but until then, Norman is setting boundaries. He's not sure what sort of boundaries he means, but there will be some, if only so Sean feels that the relationship is different than last time. That it's for real, not playing house until someone gets mad.

"I would love that," Sean says to Norman, smiling back. His grin widens. "Norman Reedus, will you be my boyfriend?" he asks, removing his arm from Norman's shoulders to hold his hand.

"Yeah, I'd like that," Norman replies shyly. He knows Sean is kidding around, that the boyfriend question had been decided by their conversation, but the formality comforts him. The relationship seems more legitimate, more real, now that Sean asked. _God, you are acting like a high school girl who got asked to her first prom. Grow up, idiot._

Sean lets go of Norman's hand and instead wraps both arms tightly around his waist, pulling the other man closer until their chests are almost touching. Norman worms his hands out from his own laps and drapes them around Sean's neck, pulling their faces closer until their foreheads touch. "Hey," he whispers.

Sean feels Norman's breath ghost over his lips. "Hey yourself," he replies. He's dying to kiss Norman, but hesitates, remembering Norman's "starting over" speech from a minute ago. Is kissing him going too fast? Luckily, his question is answered as Norman pushes Sean's face closer while maneuvering his own so their lips meet.

The kiss is soft and chaste, but both Norman and Sean exhale happily through their noses, reveling in the perfection of the moment. Sean smiles a little into the kiss as he sees Norman's eyes drift shut. He opens his mouth slightly and lets his tongue snake out between his lips to trace Norman's tongue, trusting Norman to tell him to stop if it's too much too soon.

But Norman doesn't tell him to stop. Instead, his mouth opens a little and he allows Sean to deepen the kiss. Sean's tongue remaps the once-familiar surfaces of Norman's mouth, and Sean is in heaven as he tastes a combination of Guinness, tobacco, and pure Norman. Soon, however, Norman's tongue begins to battle for dominance. Sean gladly lets Norman plunder his mouth. After a few minutes of passionate kissing, Norman pulls back for air.

Sean doesn't let him go that easily. As soon as Norman's mouth detaches, he latches on to the skin at the junction of Norman's neck and shoulder, sucking hard enough to leave a mark – take that, makeup! – before breaking off to slide Norman's shirt over his head. He is about to latch on to Norman again when a hand grabs his chin. _Well, you've gone and made him uncomfortable. Way to ruin the perfect reunion kiss._ But the hand simply drags his mouth back to Norman's before it leaves to stroke his hair. Sean responds by reacquainting his hands with Norman's torso. His left hand runs up and down Norman's spine as his right traces the area where he knows the tattoo is.

Norman is pretty sure he hasn't been this happy in years. Since Sean left, actually. He pulls back once more, this time to pull Sean's shirt off. Now it's his turn to attack his boyfriend's body with open mouth kisses. He kisses down Sean's neck, onto his shoulder. He's about to keep going further down when strong hands move to his shoulders and push him down onto the bed. He relaxes into the touch and allows his head to fall back onto the pillows. This feels so natural, so right.

Norman captures Sean's mouth once again as Sean drapes his body over his, their bodies aligning perfectly; they did meet by playing twins, after all. They kiss passionately, and Norman finds himself grinding his hips up against Sean's. _Weren't you the one who wanted some boundaries?_ he asks himself, and then promptly tells himself to shut the fuck up. He's not going to go all the way, he decides, but some relief would be nice.

Sean moans into Norman's mouth as his hips grind up. He wants this to be spontaneous and natural, but he doesn't want to go too far for Norman tonight. So he forces himself to break away from Norman, pushing himself up on his elbows so he can look Norman in the eye. "How far do you want to take this, babe?" he asks breathlessly. Okay, Norman's kiss-swollen lips are definitely not helping him get himself under control. This is going to be harder – no, shit, more difficult – than anticipated.

Norman lies still for a moment, trying to compose himself enough to give an answer that adequately expresses his thoughts. "I don't want to have sex, Sean, not tonight," he says, looking up in to Sean's eyes for reassurance that this is okay. "I just don't think we need to rush into that," he continues after Sean smiles encouragingly at him. "But other than that, it's up to you." He smiles coyly at Sean before pulling the blond man down for another kiss.

Sean is ecstatic. Norman trusts him enough for this! Anyway, he knows how to do a lot of things that aren't sex but will relieve some of the pressure in his groin, which is getting unbearable. Judging by the bulge nudging his hip, Norman needs something too. Sean is only too happy to do something about it.

He pulls his mouth from Norman's. Norman grumbles a bit in displeasure, but Sean just smiles, kissing Norman's collarbone. As much as he would just like to kiss Norman all night, he has some other plans that Norman will be happy with soon enough. He moves his mouth down Norman's torso slowly, kissing the tattoo on one beautiful pectoral muscle, then licking and blowing on a nipple. It hardens quickly, and Sean smiles widely. _It's nice to see that some things never change._ He tears himself away, however, because he has goals to accomplish (Sean likes setting easily accomplished goals, such as the current "get Norman off quickly" goal).

Sean continues kissing down Norman's chest and stomach, his hands running up and down the brunette's sides as he does so. Norman begins to whimper a little as Sean gets closer and closer to the hem of his jeans. As his mouth kisses Norman's quivering abs, Sean's hands start undoing Norman's button and zipper. He shifts a little and situates a hand under Norman, lifting him up to pull his pants and boxers off.

Sean thanks every deity he can think of. Norman Reedus is beautiful naked.

A small mewl from the pillows reminds Sean of what he should be doing. There will be plenty of time to ogle Norman's naked form later. Right now, Sean has things to do. He licks a stripe up Norman's cock, delighting in the throaty moan that comes from above. Holy shit, he might come from those moans alone. He holds Norman's hips still with his right hand, but moves his left to fist his own arousal. God, he needs to get off soon or he might explode into tiny pieces.

Another groan from Norman, and Sean decides to give him what he really wants. He opens his mouth wide and swallows Norman to the root. Norman cries out a strangled, "Fuck, Sean!" It's all the encouragement Sean needs. He begins to suck in earnest, bobbing his head quickly, listening happily to Norman's increasing moans and profanity. He regretfully moves his left hand from his own body to help hold down Norman's powerful hips. He's giving Norman pleasure, but he's also the one in control. Anyway, Norman is so big that Sean is pretty sure he'll choke if he lets Norman thrust into his mouth.

Norman's eyes are rolling into the back of his head. _So this is what heaven is like. I had forgotten._ He feels like a horny teenager again; Sean's been giving him an amazing blowjob for about a minute and he's dying to come. Seriously, can you get injured from not getting off when you need to? Norman doesn't know, so he decides he needs to come soon, just in case. "Please, Sean," he croaks, moving his hands to thread through Sean's hair. "God! Fuck, please, Sean, just…" he fades off to a groan. Sean probably has the most talented mouth in the universe.

Sean can hear the desperate, pained need in Norman's voice; it's the same need he feels. He moves his head faster, and slides one hand from Norman's hip to massage his balls instead. He feels Norman stiffen, and he glides his head so that just the tip of Norman's cock is in his mouth, and Norman is coming, hard and fast. Sean swallows it all, then lets Norman fall from his mouth. Holy fuck he is going to explode. He has been hard as steel for what feels like eternity and Norman coming might be the hottest thing in the world. Sean sits back and grabs his own cock, desperate for release.

Norman is in a wonderful, post-orgasmic haze when a loud groan brings him back to reality. He opens his eyes to tiny slits, and then opens them wide and sits up. Sean is fisting himself at the foot of the bed. Oh, God. That is the most beautiful sight Norman has seen in a long time. He's pretty sure his brain, already pretty much fried from a wonderful blowjob, just short-circuited.

Sean was already worked up from kissing, sucking, and watching Norman; it takes him only a few tugs to reach his release. He slumps onto Norman, thoroughly exhausted. He is drifting off when he hears Norman speak.

"I love watching you touch yourself, Sean, but I didn't get to reciprocate," Norman whines playfully. He pokes Sean in the side, trying to get the tired man to pay attention to him.

"You were in La-La-Land and I needed to come soon or risk painful death, Norm. I promise you can reciprocate later. Hell, I'll hold you to it," Sean tells him. "Now, can we sleep? It's been a long, stressful fucking day, and we have to work tomorrow."

"Yeah, baby. Let's sleep." Norman squirms around a bit before managing to pull the sheet up onto them.

They are still sticky from Sean's release, but they don't care. They cuddle together and sleep, happy once again.

THE END.

**A.N.:** First kind-of-sort-of-sex scene. Please be nice.


End file.
